At
different points in his career Havergal Brian wrote three works which he
described as ¡§comedy overtures¡¨. Each of them, despite the programmatic
connotations of their titles, possesses a purely abstract form. Doctor
Merryheart (1912) is a set of symphonic character-variations on an original
theme; The Tinker's Wedding (1948) is a ternary scherzo-and-trio design.
The third and last ¡§comedy overture¡¨, The Jolly Mller (1962), is a
binary form comprising an extended introduction, a theme, and a short series of
free variations. The theme itself is one Brian had known since his childhood,
and although several of his works (not least the Violin Concerto on this disc)
allude to the character of English folk-melody, this is the only occasion on
which he consciously employed a folktune as a thematic subject. The tune,
variously described by collectors as a Cheshire folksong or a 16th century popular
song, is sometimes known as ¡§The Miller of Dee¡¨, and sometimes by the
title Brian chose for his Overture.

That
title is ironic: from Chaucer's miller in The Canterbury Tales to
Tolkien's Ted Sandyman in The Lord of the Rings, millers receive a poor
press in English literature. The song's protagonist is a regular misanthrope,
his constant refrain ¡§I care for nobody, no not I, and nobody cares for me¡¨.
As if in confirmation, Brian once confessed that the words reminded him of
two millers he had known as a boy in Staffordshire: the curmudgeons hated each
other! But there is nothing misanthropic about his little Overture, which he
composed in the spring of 1962, at the age of 86, as a present for the family
of his daughter Elfreda, while he was working on his 20th Symphony.

The
key of the Overture is G: Brian takes full advantage of the harmonic piquancy
provided by the folksong's mixed mode, which combines the minor 3rd with a
major 7th. Almost half the work is taken up with a bustling, high-spirited introduction
[1] in 2/4: this evolves its own figures, melodically but not rhythmically
related to the Jolly Miller theme which eventually, after a quiet
cadential passage, appears in 6/8 in suitably lugubrious tone son the woodwind
[2] - and in a curious "shorthand" form, omitting the repeat of its
first strain, as if Brian was relying on his memory (as he probably was) rather
than any printed folksong-collection. There follows a swift succession of
informal but highly energetic and rhythmic variations, making much use of the
large complement of percussion, before a final uproarious statement of the
tune. Brian never heard The Jolly Miller performed. It was premièred in
November 1974 in the USA, by the Main Line symphony Orchestra of Philadelphia
under their conductor Robert Fitzpatrick. Its first UK performance took place
in Southampton the following month. Both of these were with amateur forces, and
the present recording constitutes the Overture's first professional
performance.

After
the completion of his Fourth symphony, Das Siegeslied (Marco Polo
8.223447), in 1933, Havergal Brian embarked on the composition of a similarly
large-scale Violin Concerto. He himself had learned the violin as a child, and
all four of the symphonies he had written up to that point feature important
episodes for solo violin, so a concerto was certainly a logical project for him
to tackle. He began to sketch it in the spring of 1934, and completed a draft
of the entire work in short score on 7 June.

The
following day his endemic bad luck scored its latest victory .As usual, Brian
travelled to work as Assistant Editor of the journal Musical Opinion by
train from South London to Victoria Station; on arrival, he found that his
case, containing the entire existing material of his new Concerto, was missing
- either lost or stolen. Though he advertised in three national newspapers for
the return of his property, the Concerto was never recovered. Brian made a
fruitless search of the lost property offices; as he recalled wryly some years
later "When I went to Waterloo station inquiring - the man at the counter
suddenly turned round & shouted to another Railway man behind 'You got that
work Joe?' & that was the last I heard of the Violin Concerto..."

Nothing
daunted, Brian set to work again almost immediately: not, it seems, to
reconstruct the lost Concerto, but to write a second one using the themes he
remembered from the first. This is entirely plausible given the highly
memorable nature of so much of the thematic material of the existing Concerto,
whose short score was finished in November 1934. Brian completed the full score
on 8 June 1935 - a year to the day since the work's predecessor had
disappeared. At first he called this new composition "Violin Concerto No.
2", and gave it a title - The Heroic. Later, however, he dropped
both numeral and epithet; history knows only a single Havergal Brian Violin
Concerto, in C major.

That
had been the nominal main key of the Fourth Symphony also: but whereas the
Symphony's tonality was extremely fluid, merely beginning and ending in firm
areas of C that held the billowing structure in place like tent-pegs, all three
of the Concerto's movements are centred on C - minor in the first movement,
major with a flattened 7th in the slow movement, firmly major in the finale.
The structural contrast is equally great. The Symphony conforms to no
traditional formal patterns and obsessively metamorphoses its material into
ever new shapes, while the Concerto's movements are spacious architectural
designs, two of them clearly related to sonata forms and customary concerto
behaviour, with some of the most direct and "tuneful" melodic writing
in Brian's entire output. There is no doubt that the great Romantic concertos,
up to and including the Elgar, served him as a generalized template for his own
essay in the form.

These
comparatively conventional features are balanced, however, by an exploratory
and unconventional attitude to the famous "concerto problem": the
treatment of the solo instrument and its relationship to the orchestra. Coming
after a series of large-scale Symphonies for very large forces, Brian's
handling of the orchestra remains fundamentally symphonic. He uses a smaller
orchestra than for those first four Symphonies, but this still involves triple
woodwind, full brass, harp, strings, and much percussion; the scoring is often
weighty or very full-textured, and highly contrapuntal. His solution - or
perhaps deliberate non-solution - to the inevitable difficulties of balance is
to write a solo part that fights back: a heroic bravura part of extreme
difficulty, requiring the powers of a first-rate virtuoso with the big tone of
a Kreisler or an Albert Sammons. In one sense the Brian Concerto is what Josef
Hellmesberger said of Brahms's: "written against the orchestra". But
in another it bears out Hubermann's rejoinder "for violin against
orchestra". Although the part is of extreme difficulty, full of cruel
octave writing, tricky and unusual passage-work, and a taxing use of extremes
of the register, it is nevertheless conceived with a profound and intimate
knowledge of what the instrument can do if pushed hard enough. The fact that, a
few years later, Brian wrote in warm admiration of the Schoenberg Concerto - a
work many violinists then be1ieved unplayable - is sufficient evidence of his
attitude to composing for a soloist. But frequently he allows the violin
moments of endearing simplicity: and his approach can be the reverse of
"soloistic", sometimes blending the violin in unison with the timbres
of a large woodwind body.

Brian's
Concerto begins in media res [3]: a single bar of serpentine chromatics
on unison strings, and the soloist strikes in with a sweeping descending phrase
in octaves, touching off a welter of stormy orchestral polyphony. The various
symphonically-metamorphosing motifs (one of them an impressive con passione figure
for the violin against sonorous brass chords) accumulate into a lengthy and
complex "first subject group" through which the soloist plots a
fervent and voluble course, interweaving among and soaring above the various
contrapuntal strands. Suddenly the storm is stilled: there appears instead a
second subject [4] in the classical G major, and in utter expressive contrast.
Almost at once this tender, folksong-like tune with its spare and delicate
accompaniment is turned into an expansive and lyrical waltz-like development of
itself in compound time, with a tiny, mysterious codetta where the violin
spirals up to a stratospheric high E.

At
which point [5] common time returns and the development-section proper strikes
in with angular contrapuntal transformations of the second subject in the
orchestra alone, soon joined by the violin with its own brand of pyrotechnics.
There follows a grandiloquent, rather Elgarian tutti [6] developing the various
motifs of the first subject; and this paves the way for what is in effect -
though not marked as such - a capricious accompanied cadenza [7]. This
culminates in a dramatic octave descent, and the coda begins with a reminder of
the serpentine figure from the work's very opening, before the woodwind state a
calm, mellifluous Lento theme in rich harmony [8]. Though this feels
like an entirely new idea, it is in fact a radiant transformation of the
salient elements of the once-so-turbulent first subject. Sweetly and
seraphically the violin takes it up, and reminders of both the first and second
subjects are woven into a dreamily romantic discourse before the movement
closes with astern reminder of its opening.

The
slow movement, anticipating by some years that of Shostakovich's First
Concerto, is cast as a passacaglia, on a lyrically ruminative eight-bar theme
announced by cellos and basses [9]. This is one of Brian's noblest and most
unified structures, and at the same time a superb demonstration of his powers
of variation. Although the theme establishes the melodic and harmonic
background of the ensuing 15 variations, it is itself continuously varied,
appearing not just in the bass but in all the orchestral registers; and the
variations themselves expand through canonic overlapping and restless changes
of time-signature. The first three, relatively orthodox, see the violin taking
up and then decorating the theme, but variation 4 brings a full-orchestral
tutti [10], developing it in symphonic style. The violin, resuming in variation
5 in dialogue with solo flute, works up increasing fervour through the next two
variations, culminating in a further one for orchestra alone which constitutes
the movement's central climax. A sense of exalted lyricism prevails in
variation 9 [11] with its tranquil lapping rhythm, and then the solo line takes
on increasing eloquence throughout variations 10 and 11 as it rises to yet
another purely orchestral variation, strenuous and contrapuntal, climaxing in a
resplendent brass version of the theme. The mood returns to one of still
serenity [12] with two variations for violin and strings only - the first
rhapsodic, the second of extreme simplicity. Flute and harp are added for the
15th and last variation, which forms a coda of peaceful intimacy.

The
finale begins [13] with the violin's bold statement of a forthright, striding C
major theme with intriguing cross-rhythms. Starting out in 4/4, this almost
immediately metamorphoses into a dance-like 6/4 and initiates a stream of
coruscatingly athletic music that constitutes the movement's first subject. As
the excitement rises, the orchestra insists on going back to the opening idea
(as a brass fanfare) and launches into a full-scale tutti development-cum-
counterstatement of the first subject before the second subject has even
appeared.

When
eventually it does [14], in solo violin against pizzicato strings and harp, it
proves to have been well worth waiting for - an irresistibly
"English" march-tune in E major, which the soloist develops and
embellishes with nonchalant good humour. Soon the music withdraws into a
hushed, mysterious Lento episode [15], where the soloist, as if in a
trance, spins a smooth, high, themeless stream of figuration against a drowsy
ostinato in harp, low strings, and muted horns. It emerges from this into a
slower development of the second subject, which the orchestra then continues on
its own, and leads us up to the Concerto's principal cadenza [16]. This one,
largely based on the finale's opening subject, is unaccompanied until its final
bars and contains, as appropriate, perhaps the most taxing bravura writing in
the entire work. Soloist and orchestra then collaborate in a compressed
recapitulation of the first subject [17], the violin rising ever higher in its
expressions of elation and finally zooming up to its highest possible C. After
which - unlike any other major violin concerto - the soloist plays no further
part in the proceedings: the work ends with the second-subject march, finally
given a full, triumphant orchestral treatment.

Like
most of Brian's important scores, the Violin Concerto had to wait a long time
for its first performance, but it found a champion at last in the late Ralph
Holmes, who was the soloist in a BBC studio première broadcast on 20 June 1969,
with the New Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Stanley Pope. Holmes also
recorded a later performance for the BBC and played the Concerto in public at
St. John's Smith Square, London in 1979. In all his performance she made some
simplifications of Brian's cruelly taxing solo part, but for the present
recording Marat Bisengaliev has restored it exactly as the composer intended.

Brian
was by no means as unrealistic or inflexible in his instrumental demands as he
is often portrayed - as is illustrated by his 18th Symphony, composed between
February and May of 1961, immediately after the completion of Symphony No. 17
(Marco Polo 8.223481). At this precise time preparations were in hand for the
world première of Brian's enormous Gothic Symphony (Marco Polo
8.223280-1), which was to be conducted by Bryan Fairfax on 24 June that year.
While discussing that project with the composer, Fairfax had asked Brian if any
of his symphonies was scored for forces small enough for him to programme with
his largely amateur Polyphonia Orchestra. None of them was; but Brian quizzed
Fairfax on the precise instrumentation the Polyphonia could field and then,
unknown to the conductor, set to work to compose a symphony of the required
orchestral size. No. 18 - dedicated to Bryan Fairfax and the London Wind Music
Society (the core performing body for the Gothic première) - is thus the only
one of the 32 Havergal Brian Symphonies which merely requires double woodwind
(the various extras being doubled by the second players). Otherwise the brass
complement is standard apart from the absence of a third trumpet, and the
percussion body, which is kept very actively employed, is as large as Brian's
norm at this period. Bryan Fairfax conducted the world première with the
Polyphonia Orchestra at St. Pancras Town Hall, London, in February 1962, and
also directed the first professional performance, a BBC studio recording
broadcast in June 1975.

After
the series of one-movement Symphonies, Nos. 13-17, which Brian had composed in
the preceding months, No. 18 signalled a new departure with its three separate
movements, classical dimensions, and even suggestions of classical forms -
though these are modified by the process of continuous development. It does
not, however, signal any relaxation of expression. This is a concise, sardonic,
driven work whose march-like outer movements enclose a bleak central elegy.
Formally speaking, the Allegro moderato first movement [18] is a rather
Haydn-like design, an implicit sonata-movement with but one subject. That
subject, however, is a hard-bitten, almost Mahlerian march, conceived in a
single tempo, growing new extensions at each appearance and stripped ever
further down to its skeletal basics as the movement proceeds.

The
slow movement [19] is the first example of a kind Brian was to develop in
several of his later symphonies, which gradually takes shape from various
neutral, drifting figures in different parts of the orchestra, and is welded
into a unified expression of increasing intensity and inevitable direction. The
mood is oppressive, tinged with tragedy; the sense of a slow, funereal march
emerges in contrast to the fast military march of the previous movement. The
music finds individual voices to articulate its grief in a solo viola and a
solo flute, but the movement concludes by building up an angry crescendo for
the full forces, dominated by brass and percussion.

With
something of an emotional jolt, the finale then begins [20] as an exuberant
quick march in 3/4 time. Some grotesque and hectic episodes nevertheless darken
its jollity, and for a moment it teeters on seriousness as Brian produces a
broader 4/4 variation of its main subject in Marcia Lento tempo [21].
The Allegro tempo soon reasserts itself, but truculence and scherzando
good humour remain intertwined. The angrier mood wins the day in the coda,
whose brazen fanfare rhythm brings the proceedings to a precipitate end.

Marat
Bisengaliev was born in Alma-Ata in Kazakhstan in 1962 and began to learn the
violin at the age of six, graduating from the Alma-Ata Conservatory in 1984
with a first prize. He went on to study at the Tchaikovsky Conservatory in
Moscow with Boris Belinky and Valerie Klimov. Having made his concerto début at
the age of nine in Alma-Ata, Bisengaliev continued to perform as a soloist
throughout Eastern Europe and also served as Artistic Director of the
Kazakhstan Chamber Orchestra, before settling in 1989 in England. In 1991

Bisengaliev
won first prize in the International Nicanor Zabaleta Competition, also
receiving the special virtuoso prize for the most outstanding performance of
the competition. He earlier was a prize-winner in 1988 at the Leipzig
International Bach Competition. He made his concerto début in England playing
the Beethoven concerto with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, followed by a
London performance of the Tchaikovsky concerto. He has appeared as a soloist
with major orchestras in Russia, England, Germany, Poland and the former Republic
of Czechoslovakia. His recordings include concertos issued by Melodiya, Naxos
and Marco Polo and he has been three times the subject of a Central Soviet
Television documentary, most recently in 1992.

BBC
Scottish Symphony Orchestra

The
BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra occupies an important position in the musical
life of Scotland. It was founded in 1935 by Ian Whyte, then Head of Music for
BBC Scotland, based at first in Edinburgh and then in Glasgow, the first
full-time professional orchestra in the country. In addition to its work with
Scottish composers, conductors and soloists, the orchestra has performed with
artists of the greatest distinction, from Schnabel to Shostakovich, while also
doing much to encourage younger conductors early in their careers. The present
principal conductor is Jerzy Maksymiuk. The orchestra has a busy schedule of
broadcasts and public concerts, including annual appearances at the Edinburgh
Festival and the London Promenade Concerts, and has toured abroad throughout Europe,
to North America and the Far East. In addition to recordings for Naxos and
Marco Polo, the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra has released a number of
compact discs on the Hyperion and Koch-Schwann labels and in 1992 won a
Gramophone Award for its Hyperion recording of Medtner Piano Concertos with
Nikolai Demidenko.

Lionel
Friend

The
conductor Lionel Friend was born in London, studying conducting at the Royal
College of Music under teachers that included Sr. Adrian Boult, Sir Colin Davis
and Hans Schmidt-Isserstedt, later serving as assistant at Glyndebourne to
Bernard Haitink and Sir John Pritchard and in 1971 and 1972 conducting
Glyndebourne Touring Opera, with conducting engagements with the Welsh National
Opera. In 1972 he was appointed Kapellmeister in Kassel and from 1977 to 1989
served as a staff conductor at the English National Opera, performing a wide
range of operas. Other engagement shave included appearances with the Royal
Philharmonic and Philharmonia Orchestras, the BBC Symphony Orchestra, with
appearances at leading festivals and a wide range of conducting engagements
abroad. His recordings include performance with the BBC Symphony and Scottish
Chamber Orchestras and with the Nash Ensemble.

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